Stone Blind(50)

‘You know what Zeus is like,’ he groaned. ‘He wouldn’t let it go. We’d be at war for generations.’

‘I suppose there is a way around that,’ she said. ‘But I’m sure you’re right. Let’s not think about it any more.’

‘Let’s not,’ he agreed. ‘What sort of way?’

‘Perhaps if you were seen to be punishing a mortal for hubris?’ she said. ‘Zeus can hardly object to you doing that, can he?’

‘No.’ Poseidon shook his head so vigorously that waves smashed onto every coast, breaking distant fishing boats into flotsam. ‘Zeus is all in favour of punishing hubris. Have you a particular example in mind?’

‘Do you know, I have the perfect example,’ she said.





Andromeda


Andromeda knew something terrible was about to happen, and she knew it in the same way that she knew when an earthquake was imminent, or a terrible storm was about to break. Her father used to say she was a seer, and although he laughed as he said it, he was only half joking. But Andromeda knew she had no special powers, because she was never sure exactly what terrible thing was coming, only that something was. At first, she thought this might simply be her rightful response to her parents’ insistence that she marry her uncle, Phineus. But as the sun climbed in the sky, and the air somehow grew thicker, she felt it was more than that.

Cassiope was refusing to speak to her daughter, or anyone, having shut herself in her rooms. Cepheus had pleaded with her to open the doors, had sent slaves to offer her every sweetmeat she might want. On previous occasions when his wife had been angry, begging and bribery had worked.

‘What shall we do?’ the king asked his daughter, as they ate another meal amid jolting spurts of conversation.

Andromeda did not know what to suggest. She had always placated her mother in the same way her father did: by giving her what she wanted until her mood improved.

‘Do you know exactly why she’s angry?’ she asked. The words ‘this time’ hung in the air between them.

‘I don’t,’ said her father. ‘I know she was frustrated about you and Phineus, but I don’t think she would have locked herself in her rooms over that. Not for this long, anyway.’

‘She would have locked me in her rooms over that,’ Andromeda said.

‘Yes.’ The two sat in silence for a moment.

‘It’s odd she hasn’t done that,’ Andromeda added.

‘Yes.’

This time the silence lasted a while longer, as they both considered what could have happened. Cassiope had been so angry about her daughter’s attitude to marrying Phineus, it was inconceivable that she would have allowed Andromeda her freedom. What if the girl had run away? Cassiope would never have taken such a risk. Even Cepheus couldn’t pretend that she would have trusted him to take care of things without her.

The two of them were still lost in thought when they heard the shouts and the pounding of feet.





Elaia


It’s true we weren’t here at the beginning, but we were here at the end and which is more important? No one wants a beginning without an end. And we were there for the crux. In fact, we are the crux.

It all began when Athene wanted a place of her own. Gods are territorial, in a way we find difficult to understand. You’re probably worrying now, are you, that we’ve insulted her? Don’t be afraid: she would never harm us. And anyway, why would she be insulted? She knows it’s true. We are everywhere, across Hellas and beyond. How could we understand what it means to call one place home?

And yet, if we did call somewhere home, it would be Athens, the city which is now hers. They named it after her: even humans probably know that. But what humans forget is that it wasn’t always hers. She won it, fair and square.

That rustling sound is everyone agreeing with me, by the way.

Because Poseidon had his eye on Athens too, you know. Well, what doesn’t he have his eye on? Oh, stop doing the terrified expressions: he can’t hurt you here. We’re far enough from the sea and you can’t seriously believe he could damage us with an earthquake? Well, I suppose you’re more fragile than we are. But really.

And you know I’m right. He is never happy, that one. Never has enough, not even with all the seas at his command. Not even with his trident and his Nereids and his . . . Whatever he has. Who cares, when it’s all underwater? No wonder he’s so acquisitive. And when he heard that Athene wanted to make Attica her own, he demanded that it instead be given to him. Because, he claimed, he had lost some minuscule part of his kingdom to the Gorgons. What did they do, we asked? Drink it? How could he lose any of his kingdom? The seas are refilled whenever it rains.

Needless to say, Poseidon didn’t see a need to answer us. His status prevented it, no doubt. And it doesn’t really matter that he hadn’t lost anything important: the relevant point is that – as usual – he was managing to feel aggrieved. So he wanted Athens and so did Athene, and Zeus didn’t want to adjudicate between them. (No, don’t worry: we have no comment on the king of the gods. His lightning can strike from anywhere, and even we respect that.) The Olympians would decide, Zeus decreed. Athene and Poseidon could both make their case. And then one god, one vote.

Even then, Poseidon demanded that he should go first. He hadn’t even thought about Attica until Athene wanted it, but now it was such an urgent desire of his that he needed to make his case immediately. Perhaps he’d realized that half the Olympians would be quite happy if he withdrew to some distant underwater cave and was never seen or heard from again. There’s a limit to how much complaining anyone wants to listen to, so whiners have to get their oars in early.